


'Delete' Key

by whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit



Series: Happy Ending Guaranteed [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash Is A Mullet-Headed Dorkball Of Inconspicuous Helpfulness, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean is In Over His Head, Dorks in Love, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5225669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit/pseuds/whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is at a party and gets entangled in a (absolutely inconspicuous and totally unplanned for) game of spin the bottle. which he doesn't even participate in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Delete' Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Id_flyifihad_wings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Id_flyifihad_wings/gifts).



Teething at his lower lip has always been a nervous gesture Castiel has been called out on quite frequently. Another nervous gesture was that he rubbed the back of his neck. It was too easy to call him out on it, so he tried to refrain from... well, making these traitorous gestures. Especially if Kevin or Charlie were around. Especially if Kevin or Charlie were around while Dean Winchester was, too. Hellhounds as the two were, they had noticed.

Of course they had noticed.

It would have taken a lot of ignorance to not notice the way Castiel’s gaze was always drawn to this. Stupidly perfectionalised item of humanity. Like. Whoa. Just across the room and looking directly at Castiel. Maybe a bit drunk too, the party has been going for a couple of hours. Dean had been approached, as usually, and had declined politely each advance.

“Cas, come on, save the number, will you?” Kevin urged him on, "That was so obviously staged."

See, Dean might have been approached, but he’s kept his gaze on Castiel as often as was possible. Dude even went so far to reposition himself, change his frikken seat just to... well.

“Cas, seriously, give me the phone,” a rather unhappy Charlie pressed, “I’ll do it for you,” and held out her hand, a friendly demand to hand over the device that held information much desired, rarely acquired and protected, by some even jealously, if ever received.

Dean’s number.

Castiel still wasn't all too clear on how it had played out, some weird game of spinning the bottle, an added security specification what needs to be done in order to really get the number, a (what he presumes) calculated spin by Dean’s mullet-head friend that somehow ended pointing directly at Castiel. Who wasn’t playing. According to Dean, who approached Castiel, the pre-requisite rule was... bla-something, fuzzy, bla-mumbled, and if Castiel hadn't known Dean to push against bullies he’d have suspected a cruel joke.

Instead, he had nodded, gave his phone to Dean who had flashed a shit-eating grin that must've hurt, quickly thumbed in his number and called himself, presenting his flashing screen to the other players. Mullet boy smiled.

Right. So now he had Dean’s number and no use ( _haha_ ) for it. His thumb hovered over the ‘delete’ key in his call log, logic demanding a press of finger his body refused profoundly.

He jumped a bit when his phone vibrated, the ping-sound drowned in the noise surrounding him.

“Meet me at the back porch? Let’s talk,” sent from a known, but unsaved number.

Castiel smiled, and his reply was swift.

Shortly after, it was not him nibbling at his lower lip. Or ear. Or that one spot near his jugular vein. Now, years later, it was Charlie, Kevin and Dean calling him out on his neck rubbing, only that now a graceful band adorned his ring finger.

**Author's Note:**

> are the drabbles getting darker or is it just my depression that makes everything go dark?  
> edit: also, Id_flyifihad_wings, u sure u like my stuff? your works have BIG FAT NONONO-TAGS :O my shit is like.. little kittens farting?


End file.
